


Reminiscence & Infatuation

by ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy, ivnwrites



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Dream Sequences, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy/pseuds/ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivnwrites/pseuds/ivnwrites
Summary: A mirage paraded behind his closed eyelids. A blackened stag with its rack of antlers lowered and a prowling wolf circled the winged predator with their scarlet painted pelts and scales black in the silvery moonlight. The two predators fixed their aim upon the Dragon, springing to life at once. Battle cries shattered the air, mingling with screams of agony as attacks landed. A trickle of crimson trailed down a torn throat, producing a nearly soundless screamSuddenly, the pandemonium swirled and dissolved, leaving nothing in its wake. Hazy blue eyes welcomed the world, squinting and quickly adjusting to the light that shouldn’t have been as intrusive as it was.





	Reminiscence & Infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all,   
> I meant to add this work to the Zine before RDC5, but clearly did not happen. Now that the event is over, I am very honored to have met not only members from the cast, but many amazing fanfic authors/writers, who I've been inspired by. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy my piece and I did have some help from my awesome Beta Reader, ivnwrites , who encouraged me the most when I needed it.

A mirage paraded behind his closed eyelids. A blackened stag with its rack of antlers lowered and a prowling wolf circled the winged predator with their scarlet painted pelts and scales black in the silvery moonlight. The two predators fixed their aim upon the Dragon, springing to life at once. Battle cries shattered the air, mingling with screams of agony as attacks landed. A trickle of crimson trailed down a torn throat, producing a nearly soundless scream

Suddenly, the pandemonium swirled and dissolved, leaving nothing in its wake. Hazy blue eyes welcomed the world, squinting and quickly adjusting to the light that shouldn’t have been as intrusive as it was.

The adrenaline that once pumped through his veins was absent, leaving him boneless and weary in the aftermath. The terrifying excitement he had felt before was nothing more than a distant memory and, like a drug, he found himself yearning for more. His body ached in painful spasms and each intake of breath seemed to spark a faint fire of aggravation that blossomed throughout his physical being. Breathing shouldn’t be this uncomfortable, unless he had shattered a rib or two.

With the discomfort, the realization that he was very much alive crept into his awareness, a simple fact struggling to break through his boundary of disbelief. Why had he survived? HOW was he still breathing? If he was alive, then wasn’t Hannibal?

The sensation of something warm resting on his hand brought him to his current predicament. Glancing down he was greeted by the sight of a hand on his own, and his heart pulsed. Hannibal Lecter was seated beside him, sound asleep. Even in his rugged state, numerous multi-colored bruises and cuts littering the skin of his face and arms, Hannibal’s permanent air of natural elegance remained tethered to its owner.

The scene was a direct mirror of Will striding into Abigail Hobbs’ hospital room to find the cannibal by her bedside, holding her hand in a light grasp.

The infamous Chesapeake Ripper shifted in his seat before Will found himself staring into the man’s penetrating gaze, worming its unwelcome way into the very depths of his soul. He had expected to find a terrifying glimpse of fury but instead the eyes that settled on his contained a sense of relief, something he didn’t comprehend. The rush of adrenaline blanched Will’s already dry throat and he momentarily struggled to speak. Luckily, he didn’t have to say the first words.

“Hello, Will.”

That phrase had been spoken countless times since he first entered Lecter’s office. His mind slowed to a reasonable pace and he was aware that the accented tone had seemingly calmed his restlessness in a way that should have startled him.

The empath mustered a weak smile and managed a hoarse, “Hi.”

Bending forward to him, a light kiss was pressed to Will’s forehead and he had to fight back the blush that threatened to arise and flush his cheeks. “Welcome back to the world.” Hannibal barely contained a malevolent chuckle. “I can’t say that it missed me.” “Well, I did. I was quite lonely without your presence to accompany me when I awoke.”

A lingering form outside the doorway quickly whispered in and out of view. It had been Chiyoh. Suddenly enervated, the ultimate understanding penetrated Will’s consciousness like a blade. It had been love- Hannibal’s love- that pulled him from the rocks and turbulent breakers. Love; a capacity and emotion he never intuited Hannibal to possess, much less display. His eyes and fingers closing, a small smile acknowledged that the world once again had proved him wrong.


End file.
